


Into the Fire

by jadedstandby



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Chaptered, Guilt, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:18:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedstandby/pseuds/jadedstandby
Summary: MacCready is tired of being guilty. He's tired of being an asshole. Step one in changing that? He takes up an offer he normally would've refused to guard the Finch homestead. Little did he know that he would meet the one other person in the entire Commonwealth who had just as much guilt as he did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, if you look at the last thing I posted on AO3, it was posted in 2014. Fun fact: this is the first thing that I have written (that wasn't in MLA format lol) since then. This idea was just an interesting thought I had while playing the game and trying to keep Finch farm defended. Enjoy!!

“This is a joke, right?”

“Fucking hell, MacCready, please. I’m practically on my knees here.”

“Yeah, well it’s a sh-- it’s a crappy deal, so I’m not buying.” MacCready took a final drag on the cigarette he’d been smoking, putting it out on the table upon the realization that there weren’t any nearby ashtrays. It was a shitty table, one burn mark was just going to blend in with the 200 years’ worth of wear it had endured. He looked up at Mira, who was in a full blow pout. “You know it and I know it. I’m not stupid.”

“Mac, Preston is breathing down my neck about this constantly. I want to help these people, I really do, I’m just... dammit, I’m just spread so thin.” she looked away from him, sighing. MacCready noted, with surprise, that she seemed to be holding back tears. He turned away from her, trying not to think about it and stay firm. 

“Mira, it’s ridiculous. Think about it. You’re asking me to live on a farm with some strange family I’ve met one time, and protect their land with my life. You aren’t even paying me for it. You paid my fee at the beginning, but your ability to have me shack up with random wastelanders for months at a time wasn’t specified. I quit the Gunners because I was sick of taking orders. Don’t wanna be taking them from you, too.”

He heard Mira sniffle and had to restrain himself from looking at her. Now was not the time for this. “Mac, they live right next to a huge raider outpost, they’re under fire constantly. That damn ironworks just won’t die, every time I feel like I’ve cleaned it out, more show up. Mr. Finch has zero faith left in me. I just don’t have the resources to defend them down there, I want to help, but I-” her voice was thick and strained as she tried to keep herself together. “-I- I can’t do it by myself, MacCready. I’m only one person.” she was definitely crying now. 

MacCready finally looked over to her. She was looking away from him. Her glassy eyes were trained on her kitchen table, where both of them were sitting. She was scratching away at the old wood with her fingernail. He saw wet tracks making their way down her face. He’d never seen her cry before. In fact, he didn’t know if _anyone_ had seen her cry before. At least, he’d never heard about it if they had.

“It’s fine. Forget I asked.” Mira said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her leather jacket. “I’ll figure something out.” her voice was barely audible. She never looked directly at MacCready, standing out of her chair and leaving the house in one quick motion, one last sniffle reaching MacCready’s ears as she disappeared.

MacCready watched her swift exit, trying to be pleased with her concession. _She wasn’t paying you anything extra. There was no benefit, you were getting absolutely nothing out of it,_ he thought to himself. _It’s her problem, not yours. You’re just a hired gun. You’re not a Minuteman. You’re just a mercenary, and this is not your business._  
“Not my problem.” he said out loud to himself. “Not my problem.” 

He sat there for an hour, lighting up another cigarette and watching the sunset through the holes in the house’s walls. 

All he could see was Mira’s tear stained face.  
***  
“Nice to see you decided to make an appearance, MacCready.” Preston Garvey side-eyed MacCready as he made his way up one of the guard posts located at the entrance to Sanctuary Hills.

MacCready scowled towards the other man. “Up yours, Garvey.”

After the evening he’d been having, Preston was lucky that he’d decided to show up to his rotation at all. In fact, MacCready couldn’t think of a less desirable way to spend his time than night watch. The fact that it was with Preston made it even more insufferable, due to the other man’s tendency to take watch extremely seriously and not tolerate even the smallest sip of alcohol or the shortest wink of sleep from his partner. The night watch rotation was bad enough on its own, but with Preston, there was absolutely no having fun with it.

MacCready scanned over the perimeter. It was quiet as a tomb. He sighed. This was going to be a long night. He could already tell.

See, that’s why you don’t need to be doing that Finch farm job. It’ll be this, twenty four seven. He leaned up against the watchpost railing. Mira’s desperation still wouldn’t leave his head. He had enough guilt already. He didn’t need this.

It’d been years, but he still got night terrors about Lucy, about her getting ripped apart by feral ghouls. She screamed for him, but he could never scream back. He was stuck in place, just watching them tear into her, watching her suffer. He couldn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything.

Duncan was always on the back of his mind, too. MacCready didn’t have parents, he didn’t know what it was like to have that sort of love. He’d had the opportunity to give that love to Duncan, but he’d wasted it. His son was somewhere else, and he was sick, dying even, and MacCready was there, looking out into the empty Commonwealth. He wasn’t useful, he wasn’t helpful. He was selfish and stupid.

MacCready glanced over at Preston. All at once, immense jealousy washed over him. Preston Garvey was the pinnacle of goodness. MacCready was willing to bet that Preston had never made anyone cry in his life. Preston probably had skeletons in his closet. (who didn’t in the Commonwealth?), but he didn’t have to feel guilty about how much effort he was giving for other people. He was a true hero, someone to look up to. 

_If someone shot Preston in the head right now, people would miss him._ MacCready thought, studying the other man. _Would anyone miss me?_

Preston looked over to MacCready, catching him in the midst of his thoughts. “What?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Nothing.” MacCready said quietly, turning back to look out on the wasteland. It seemed a lot bigger, all of a sudden. 

He pulled out his rifle and began to fool around with it, just to occupy his mind. The gun was the nicest thing he owned. He’d bought when he was seventeen, right after his rifle from Little Lamplight gave out. It was expensive, one of the most expensive things he’d ever bought, besides a wedding ring for Lucy. MacCready took obsessively good care of it. Through the five years he’d owned it, he cleaned it almost every day. When he’d first left the Capital wasteland, he had taken to modifying it as well, so he wouldn’t think too hard about Lucy or Duncan. He was proud of it. 

“What’s that?” Preston said, shifting his laser musket into the crook of his arm to point out movement along the road to MacCready. “Take a look for me, MacCready.”

“On it,” MacCready said, bringing his rifle up to look into the scope. He aimed to where Preston was pointing, praying for some action. _I could nail ‘em from here,_ he thought as he zeroed in on the potential threat. Disappointment struck when he made out the unmistakable shape of a pack Brahmin, loaded down with items as it sauntered towards Sanctuary, a trader out front and guards in tow. “Looks like a caravan.” he said to Preston, watching them come closer. 

“That’s good to hear. Might have some news for me.” Preston said, sounding relieved. 

“Might have some alcohol for me.” MacCready mumbled, putting his gun down and watching them come the rest of the way up the road and across the Sanctuary bridge, slow and steady. Preston flagged them down  
.  
“Where are you guys coming from?” he asked. 

“Oh, geez. Everywhere. We were along the coastline last week, before heading up to Bunker Hill and coming up through here.” the caravaner said, patting his Brahmin. “Mind if we shack up here for a few nights? Old girl’s beat. Three days of walking since Bunker.”

“Yeah, of course.” Preston smiled at them graciously. MacCready studied the group, who all looked travel-weary. He wouldn’t have trusted them so easily, but he wasn’t about the challenge Preston’s charity and have another reason to feel like a prick. “Did you happen to come across any Minutemen settlements on your way here?” Preston inquired, leaning on the walls of his post to look down at them better. 

“Yeah, we came through a few. Your settlements, I take it?” the caravaner said, undoubtedly referring to Preston’s getup. He was the most obvious Minuteman in the entire Commonwealth. More obvious than Mira, and she was the general.

“The general is actually in charge of the settlements, technically speaking. I just like to keep her informed.”

“Ah, I see.” the caravaner took off the grimy ballcap he’d been wearing and scratched his forehead with the bill. “Just passed through most of ‘em, they seemed to be doing alright. There was one though… we spent the night there, they had a lot to say about you guys, not good stuff, either.” 

Preston furrowed his brow. “Which one?”

“Oh, God, what was that guy’s name again? Fletch? Fair?” the caravaner looked back at the guards. “Finch.” one of them supplied.

Preston’s brow furrowed further. “Abraham Finch?”

“Yeah, that was the guy!” the caravaner snapped his fingers. “He was none too pleased with your group, going on and on about how little good you all had done for him and his.” he shrugged. “We didn’t really know what to think of it all. Still don’t, honestly. I’m still amazed that the Minutemen are back at all.” 

Preston's face hardened. “Thanks for the update,” he said, anger seeping through his polite guise. “You guys can go on through. Don’t cause any trouble.”

“Don’t worry, we’re too tired for that.” the man chuckled. “Thanks for having us.” he clicked at his Brahmin and the whole crew began to trudge through Sanctuary Hills, jabbering excitedly at the prospect of getting some rest.

Preston was still scowling when MacCready looked back at him. “Finch farm,” Preston said, his angry mumbling only just audible to MacCready. 

MacCready was at a loss. His guilt about the evening overcame him with full force, the image of Mira’s disappointment and frustration vivid in his mind. He knew what he had to do. There wasn’t a choice now, he couldn’t live like this, he couldn’t keep being the person he’d created. 

Robert Joseph MacCready will be missed, he thought decisively. He turned to Preston. “I need to go tell Mira something.”

“Can it wait? We’re busy right-”

“-No. It can’t wait.”

Preston sighed. “Fine, whatever. Promise me you’ll come back.”

“Garvey-” MacCready started with a snappy reply, quickly thinking better of it. “Yeah, I promise.” he nodded quickly to Preston and went down the stairs of his watchpost, quickly making his way through the settlement. 

Mira was in the street near her house, welcoming the caravanner and his crew. She looked to MacCready when she saw his purposeful approach.

“Mac? Is something wrong?” he saw her hand twitch towards her belt, where her ten millimeter pistol was holstered.

“No, no… nothing’s wrong.” he faltered, realizing he hadn’t really thought out what he was going to say. “I… uh… well, I thought about that job that we talked about. Earlier today.”

“Yes?” Mira’s hand dropped. She looked hopeful.

“I’ll do it. We can work out the details later, but I’ll take the job.”

Mira’s face broke into a genuine smile. She looked warm and thankful and MacCready could almost feel it. She went over to him and caught him up in a big hug, causing him to stiffen in surprise. 

“Thank you.” she whispered as she pulled away, kissing his cheek. “Seriously, you have no idea. Thank you so much.” 

MacCready felt his face going red. “No problem.” he stepped away from her. She was still smiling radiantly. 

“We can talk about it tomorrow, I know you’ve got things to do tonight.” she said, her voice bright and chipper. “This is such a big weight off my shoulders. Thanks again.”

MacCready nodded. He was a bit lost for words. “See you tomorrow, then.” he waved awkwardly. 

Mira waved back, going back to her conversation with the caravaner. Her smile didn’t melt away. 

MacCready walked back slowly, thinking about the exchange they’d just had. The thought of the job weighed on his mind. Long hours on watch, sleeping on the floor of some family’s dingy farmhouse. No real pay for anything, unless he could convince Mira otherwise, which was highly unlikely. She’d barely been able to afford his 250 cap fee.

But at that moment, the job itself didn’t seem to matter so much. The true happiness he’d seen in Mira, the way it was present in all of her features, that was what was going through his head. And _he_ had triggered it. He could hardly remember the last time he’d made someone else that happy. Probably not since Lucy.

He’d forgotten how nice it felt. 

All of these things, a tug-of-war between dread and elation, continued in his mind as he slowly made his way up to his watchpost. Again, he settled in, taking in the view around him. Breath he didn’t know he’d been holding escaped his lips. Despite the emotional cocktail he was brewing, there was a strange peacefulness to all of it, as if he’d just put something to rest.

“MacCready?” Preston’s voice pulled him from the pool of his thoughts. 

“What is it?” he looked towards the other man.

“You good, man? You didn’t respond the first time I asked.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” MacCready turned back to look out over the wastes. For a reason that was absolutely beyond him, he smiled. “Yeah, I’m just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1! Please let me know what you think, and hmu on Tumblr if you so desire (nihilnovesubsole.tumblr.com)


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